Moving On
by Mornwey
Summary: One of the undoubtedly numerous 'what happens after X3' fics. Slash. Bobby's POV
1. Prologue

**Moving On**

**Summary: One of the undoubtedly numerous 'what-happens-after-X3' fics. X3 spoilers and slash, in Bobby's POV  
Fandom: X-men  
Pairings: Bobby/Rogue, hints of Booby/John, John/OC  
Warnings: Bad language, slash  
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Bobby, John, or Rogue. I do, however, own Cypher and the Medusa  
Author's Note: So what did y'all think of X3? I've just got home from seeing it, and the Plot Bunnies are biting. A few things bothered me, though. For example, I didn't like that I beat John – not believable, I'm afraid. :hides from the wrath of Bobby fangirls: And I don't believe for a second that Magneto would just abandon Mystique. On the upside, I see new slashing opportunities arising. A mixed blessing, all in all, but I enjoyed it.**

**Prologue**

Three days had passed since Alcatraz, and I was curled up on a sofa in the X-mansion with my arm around my girlfriend. Rogue was still delighted at being able to touch, and we hadn't wasted the opportunity to make up for lost time. I was absently flicking through the channels on the television. Still unused to the touch of her bare skin, I jumped as Rogue grabbed my wrist.

"Stop!"

She took the remote from me and backtracked a few channels to a news report. I jumped again as I saw an all-too-familiar face on the television – the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach only exacerbated by the newsreader reading out the name:

"…believed to be the only member of Magneto's inner circle still at large, St John Allerdyce - also known as Pyro - is extremely dangerous, and should not be approached under any circumstances…"

The picture was an old one, from before he had dyed his hair. He had one eyebrow raised and his trademark smirk firmly in place. I suppressed a sigh at the sight of the scruffy teenager who had once been my best friend…and occasionally more. Although what I had done to John had been necessary, I still regretted it.

"He shoulda stayed with us," Rogue said, shaking her head. I didn't say anything, but I couldn't help but wonder what would happen to John…


	2. Three Years Later

**Moving On**

**Summary: One of the undoubtedly numerous 'what-happens-after-X3' fics. X3 spoilers and slash, in Bobby's POV  
Fandom: X-men  
Pairings: Bobby/Rogue, hints of Bobby/John, John/OC  
Warnings: Bad language, slash  
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Bobby, John, or Rogue. I do, however, own Cypher and the Medusa  
Author's Note: I noticed a few mistakes in the prologue, but I can't work out how to fix them. Ah, well, sue me  
**

**Chapter 1 – Three Years Later**

Five minutes after I'd first noticed, I still couldn't quite believe my eyes.

I'd come to the Medusa – a bar well known for its mutant-friendly policy – expecting nothing more than a quiet drink and maybe a game of pool. But there, leaning against the counter of the crowded and smoky bar, was someone I thought I'd never see again. He was older, paler, a little more lined around the eyes, but goddamnit if it wasn't John. His hair was longer and had been allowed to go back to its natural reddish-brown. He was dressed as scruffily as always, and I could see the outline of the wrist-mounted lighter Magneto had given him through the fabric of his jacket. He looked over his shoulder and said something to the person standing behind him, who laughed; white teeth flashing in the dim light, showing up against his deep tan. I regarded this other person with some suspicion.

He was slim and a little shorter than John, with wavy dark-blonde hair that reached past his shoulders. His eyes were bright green and shone with an unnatural light which made me sure he was also a mutant. All that could be seen of his attire was a floor-length black leather jacket. He said something to John and slipped off, elbowing his way through the crowd. It was then that I made my decision.

"Smirnoff Ice," I said as I reached the counter. John started a little at the familiar voice.  
"Hello, Bobby," he murmured, his voice hoarse, "Long time no see."

Close up he looked weary and defeated. At first glance, no impartial observer would believe he was only twenty-one. He looked pale and ill, and his eyes were those of someone twice his age, the eyes of someone who had given up all hope. He gave me a tired smile before returning to what he had being doing previously, which was staring dully into his glass. Not the smirk I knew so well, or the wicked grin I had once seen worryingly often, but a perfectly normal if rather weary smile. I wondered what had happened to change John so.

"Where have you been?"  
"Here and there - avoiding the law, mostly. How's Rogue?"  
"Very happy with her new boyfriend," I replied a little sourly, "Thinks kinda fizzled out. She's with some thief type from New Orleans now."  
"Still human?" I knew immediately what John meant. The cure wasn't always permanent – some mutants' bodies rejected the change. Rogue, however, hadn't been one of them.  
"Yeah," I replied. Still rather bitter about the whole affair, I sought for a change of subject; "You heard from Magneto at all?"  
"He drops me a line occasionally," John shrugged; "He got his powers back eventually, but he's kinda given up on the whole world-domination thing…" He trailed off, a brief look of pain crossing his face, and was overtaken by a wracking cough. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and I thought I saw smears of blood before said hand returned to its place the pocket of John's jeans.

"Are you…okay?" I asked hesitantly.  
"Do I look fucking okay?" John replied sarcastically. I would have retorted, but the person who had been with John earlier chose that moment to reappear. Close to, he looked about nineteen. He leaned on the bar next to John, eyeing me suspiciously.

"This guy bothering you?" he said; an accent that I couldn't quite place colouring his speech. John looked at him speculatively for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not I was bothering him.  
"Nah," he said eventually, "He's an old school friend. Bobby, this is Cypher – or Kevin if you prefer." And there was the trademark smirk I knew so well: "My boyfriend."  
I kept my expression neutral to hide the inexplicable and rather embarrassing surge of jealously that had just swept through me: "Nice to meet you," I said nonchalantly, holding out my hand. John smirked again, giving me the uncomfortable feeling that he knew exactly what I was thinking.

"Likewise," Cypher said, shaking the proffered hand, "Bobby, isn't it?"  
"Yeah," I said. I knew it was petty, but I iced Cypher's hand; "Iceman."

Cypher's brilliantly green eyes sparked and flashed, rather unnerving me; "_Don't_ do that," he said in a level voice, flexing his fingers. The faintest suspicion of a flame danced around his hand for a moment, melting the ice, and he flashed a grateful smile at John. "I gotta go take care of some things; I'll be around if you need me, 'kay?" I looked determinedly at my sneakers – noting in passing that the left sole was coming away – as the other two kissed. Cypher disappeared into the crowd.

"How long you two been together, then?" I asked conversationally.  
"Bout a year now," John replied. He really had changed – I hadn't thought he had any conception of a relationship that lasted longer than a night. Or a series of nights in one case, but I wouldn't exactly dignify that by the name of a relationship.  
"What's his power?"  
"Computers – anything with electronics, really. Did you ever hear about the hacker that screwed up the government defence computers 'bout five years back?"  
"Yeah, it was all over the news."  
"That was him. They've still got no idea who did it, or how." He grinned at me; "Don't tell me you're jealous."  
"I've never liked computers."  
"You know that's not what I meant."

My attempt at dodging the question exposed for the pathetic charade it was, I elected to ignore it completely. Instead I sighed and gazed morosely into my drink; "You should never have left."  
"Like anyone cared."  
"Rogue did… And me," I added quietly; "You know, if you came back…"  
"No," John cut me off, "Save your mercy for someone who can use it."  
"John, what's wrong with you?" I asked, "It's not too late for you to-"  
"I'm afraid it is."  
"I don't understand," I said, frustrated. John gave a haunting smile:

"I'm dying."


	3. You're What!

**Moving On**

**Summary: One of the undoubtedly numerous 'what-happens-after-X3' fics. X3 spoilers and slash, in Bobby's POV  
Fandom: X-men  
Pairings: Bobby/Rogue, hints of Bobby/John, John/OC  
Warnings: Bad language, slash  
Disclaimer: I own Cypher and the Medusa. Nothing else  
Author's Note: Sorry folks, but there will be NO MORE updates until July. I'm moving house, and it'll take a good few weeks to get the interent connection up and running...sorry **

** And no, _not_ the Legacy Virus. I'm not familiar enough with comicverse canon to do it justice.  
**

**Chapter Two – You're _What_?**

For a moment I could do nothing but stare blankly, unable to comprehend what I had just been told. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I must have misheard.

"Sorry, what did you just say?"  
"I'm dying," John repeated patiently. My brain short-circuited at that point. I couldn't quite wrap my head around the concept. That John; who had always been so full of life, so in the moment, could be dying. Part of me wanted to believe that it was some sort of sick joke, but the rest of me reluctantly admitted that it explained everything.

"But…how?"  
"Cancer," John said. He gave a sardonic smile, "I might have been immune to fire, but it turns out that all the smoke did the same to me as it would to anyone else."  
"How long have you known?"  
"I don't know - maybe six months. I've got another couple of months left, give or take."  
"I…holy shit, I'm sorry."  
"Don't be." He didn't look at all frightened of the fate that awaited him. In fact he didn't look anything other than resigned, except from faintly amused by my reaction.

I glanced across the dimly-lit room to where Cypher stood deep in conversation with a green-skinned mutant. Things that I hadn't noticed before suddenly became obvious – the tension in his stance, the faint background look of fear and desperation in his eyes. John followed my gaze and a brief expression of guilt flickered across his face.

"I don't know how I'd have coped without him," he said softly, "But it's really going to mess him up when I do die." There wasn't really anything I could say to that – I opted for an understanding silence instead. When the silence drew out uncomfortably, however, I felt compelled to say something.

"Can't you get any sort of treatment?"  
"Can't afford it," John shrugged, "Besides, who'd help me? I'm a criminal. Not exactly in the Top Ten Most Wanted any more, but even so…"  
"That's not right."  
"No doubt society will be better off without me." Actually that was probably true, but I felt it would be tactless to say so.  
"I'd be scared shitless," was what I opted to say instead.  
"I was at first," he admitted, "But now…well, it was gonna happen eventually, wasn't it? I'd have liked more time, but…" He shrugged.

I felt a surge of admiration mingled with surprise. Surprise for a start that I could admire someone who tried to kill me the last time we met. It was strange – the John I knew would have been furious, ready to lash out at the world in general for cutting short his life. He really had changed. In a way, our positions had been reversed. John had found love, and finally come to terms with himself. Everything I hadn't managed…funny the way things work out, isn't it?

Another awkward silence followed, and I decided it was time to make my excuses and leave. Suddenly I didn't feel like a night out any more. John raised his glass in a mocking salute as I left, and then turned back to the bar.

The street outside was almost deserted, the occasional lone figure drifting through the sodium glare of the streetlights. I walked quickly to my car, feeling rather shell-shocked. I was moving solely on auto-pilot by then. Turn the key, change gear, pull out of the parking space. I barely noticed the ride home…uneventful as always, I guess. Next thing I knew, I was parking the car rather haphazardly in the garage of the X-mansion.

Most of the older students – me, Rogue, Kitty – had stayed on to become teachers. Others just dropped by the mansion occasionally, much like Logan had once done. I found myself teaching Physics…and every time I entered a class, I was reminded painfully that the Professor had once taught that subject. Kitty was teaching English, and Rogue had taken over Jean's Biology classes. I could cope with the lessons, but I swear I will _never_ get used to people calling me "Professor Drake".

I went up to my room and changed for bed. After an hour's tossing and turning, however, I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to get any sleep. I got up and headed for the kitchen – the school's supply of mint-choc-chip ice cream was calling to me.

The kitchen was empty, but that probably wouldn't last for long. There was always someone in the kitchen, be it a kid who'd had a nightmare, or a teacher with too much on their mind. I was firmly in the latter category there. I was reminded strongly of the night the school was attacked, sitting at the kitchen island eating ice cream. Right on cue, someone walked in – not Logan this time, but Storm.

"Hello, Bobby," she said with a tired smile, and set about making some coffee.  
"Good…" I glanced at the clock, "…Morning, Storm."  
"You were home early tonight" she said, sitting opposite me with her mug of coffee clutched in her hand, "Did something happen?" I tried to think of an answer.  
"I, um…I don't know, I just didn't feel like a night out."  
"Nothing happened?"  
"No," I lied. She stared at me for a little longer than was comfortable, absently running a hand through her ivory hair.  
"I'm no telepath," she said eventually, "But I don't need to be to tell that you're hiding something."

"I…" I argued with myself about whether or not I should tell her, but I won in the end; "I don't think I'm ready to talk about it. But I'll come and talk to you when I am." She nodded – not really satisfied, but accepting that as the best she was going to get. We talked of various trivial things until I finally decided it was time for bed. I said goodnight and trod the familiar path to my bedroom.

I thought I'd have trouble sleeping, but I was out like a light the second my head hit the pillow.


	4. The Need to Know

**Moving On**

**Summary: One of the undoubtedly numerous 'what happens after X3' fics. X3 spoilers and slash, in Bobby's POV  
Fandom: X-men  
Pairings: Bobby/Rogue, hints of Bobby/John, John/OC, Remy/Rogue  
Warnings: Bad language, slash  
Disclaimer: I own Cypher and the Medusa. Nothing else  
Author's Note: I apologise profusely for the long time you had to wait. Have another chapter, with my compliments. Free cyber-cookies to all who review**

**Chapter 3 – The Need to Know**

I would have liked to sleep in the next morning, but it was Thursday and I had a class to teach. I staggered out of bed and into the en-suite bathroom. A cold shower woke me up a little until I felt about capable of facing the students. I didn't really feel like breakfast, so I went straight down to my classroom.

I had the younger students first, so there was nothing too taxing on the agenda. Just as well really – my mind was mainly occupied with the events of the previous night. Sensing my preoccupation in that rather worrying way that schoolchildren do, the class paid very little attention. But I wasn't really paying attention either, so that was alright. I had senior students next, however, so I had to get my head together a bit for that. I finally made my decision which eased my worries somewhat. It was break after that class, so I let them go a few minutes early, and headed towards the Biology classroom.

"So Ah want those projects on mah desk by Monday," the familiar accent drifted out from the classroom, followed by a chorus of 'yes, Professor D'Ancanto'. I stood aside as the students streamed past me then knocked on the door to announce my presence. Rogue looked up briefly, and then did a small double-take as she saw me, eyes betraying her surprise. We hadn't really spoken much since we split up.

"Ah have a lot of work to do," she said neutrally.  
"I know," I replied, "So have I." I examined my sneakers once more, trying to phrase my request in the most inoffensive way possible; "Rogue, can I talk to you?"  
"Uh…why?"  
I managed to raise my eyes from my sneakers and look at her; "Something's happened, and I think you have a right to know."  
"Are you okay?" she asked, frowning. She glanced around her rather disorganised classroom, "Come in, have a seat."

I gratefully sank onto a spare chair and she sat near me, a look of curiosity tinged with suspicion and apprehension on her face.  
I paused, unsure of how to start; "I'm having a…moral crisis of a sort, and I think you're the only person who'd understand it. Or care, for that matter."  
"Maybe you ought talk t' Kitty then," she muttered.  
"No, it's not about me," I said quickly; "I went out to the Medusa last night, and I…I ran into John."

He eyes widened, and for a moment she struggled to frame a coherent reply. I could practically feel the shock radiating from her. "Wha- Why didn't you kill each other?"  
I raised my eyebrows at the question, and she smiled sheepishly; "He's changed a lot," I said, "It was a kind of truce, I suppose. He didn't try and blast me into oblivion, so I felt it was polite to return the favour."  
"Where has he been all this time?"  
"He didn't go into any detail. He…" I stopped. I knew I should tell her everything, but it was hard to put words around it. Her eager look was replaced by a slight frown.  
"Ah know there's somethin' you're not tellin' me."

"He looked…sick," I said, gazing at my shoes, "I asked him what was wrong, and…"  
"And?"  
"He's got cancer, Rogue. He's dying."

I finally summoned the courage to tear my eyes away from my shoes – I was really going to have to get that sole mended – and look at her. If I had thought she looked shocked before, it was nothing compared to how she looked now. Her initial response was much as mine had been:

"_What!_"

Afterwards I felt bad for dropping that on her. But in a way, I'd have felt worse if I hadn't told her. She had a right to know: after all, she'd been friends with John as well before he switched sides. We both had things to do, so I made my excuses and left. I went back to the Medusa most nights after that. Sometimes John was there, sometimes he wasn't. We would talk about nothing in particular for a while then go our separate ways at an unspoken signal.

It was about a month after I'd first met them in the bar that I saw Cypher walk in alone, John nowhere in sight. That was so unusual as to be just plain weird – I'd never seen one without the other. He leant on the bar, ordering a drink, and I went over.

"Hey," I said. He looked at me warily.  
"Hi."  
"Where's John?"  
"He's gotta talk to some people about some things," Cypher said evasively. Neither of them had ever said what they did for a living, but I got the feeling it wasn't entirely legal – what else would you expect from a world-famous hacker and a notorious terrorist? I nodded in understanding and tactfully dropped the subject. I didn't really know Cypher very well – I always got the impression that he didn't particularly like me. I racked my brains for something to say, but to my surprise, he spoke first.

"What?"  
"I didn't say anything," I replied, confused.  
"You wanted to," he shrugged; "It was pretty obvious."  
"Oh, right," I paused, considering how to phrase my reply; "I just realised I don't know anything about you."  
"Observant," he commented, then grinned at my offended expression; "Sorry, I just can't help myself. If you're that curious, ask away." As soon as I had the chance to ask, everything I'd wanted to know immediately disappeared from my mind. I gathered my scattered thoughts.

"How did you meet John?"  
He shifted uncomfortably then said quietly; "It was about two years ago. He…he saved my life."  
For a moment I could only stare.

"Details?"  
"I got cornered by a mob of those anti-mutant psychos," he said, downing a shot, "John came past and saw – one moment angry mob; the next, pile of crispy barbecue." I suppressed a shudder at the vivid mental image that his flippant description gave me. I'd seen the effects of John's powers up close a few times too often. But something I was beginning to understand about Cypher was that he rarely took anything seriously.

Perhaps it's not a bad philosophy. I certainly don't think I could have coped in his position. Sometimes if you don't laugh, you'll end up crying.


End file.
